


Time Isn't Real or : How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Myself

by amd1213



Series: The Life of the Prophet Cassandra [1]
Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Mutant Powers, Older Man/Younger Woman, Slow Burn, time distortion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:15:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amd1213/pseuds/amd1213
Summary: After Cassandra's powers manifest, she is brought to Xavier's School. As she learns to control ( or rather tolerate ) her powers, she meets a man who teaches her that sometimes when you get thrown out a window, you just gotta go limp.





	1. Prologue: One Hell of a Shower.

“Cass, it’s time to get up.” A shrill cry broke through the chilled morning air.

Letting out a deep, long-suffering sigh, Cassandra pulled her blankets closer. Grey sheets enclosed her as she twisted them, winding them around her head. Sleep-swaddled and blissfully warm, she refused to subject herself to the blistering cold of the winter morning. She refused to even open her eyes.

“Cassandra, Get up! You’re gonna be late to school.” Her mother cried once more. Peeking in her room to see her daughter enclosed in a cocoon of blankets, she sighed. “You know that if you aren’t there in time it’ll just make you more anxious.” she scolded gently.

A groan emitted from the heap of blankets before they were tossed, unceremoniously, from the bed. Stepping quickly out of her bed, she stumbled to the bathroom. Her feet unprepared to hold her weight. Mind still dense with sleep, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Brown hair tumbled down in waves that were slightly matted at the frayed ends she’d refused to cut earlier that month.

Trying and failing to run her fingers through the tangles, she turned on the shower and stepped inside. When the lukewarm water hit her back she shivered, lurching backwards. Grabbing the handle and blasting the heat. Her skin, flushing a reddish pink, stung beautifully as the water hit her. Quickly washing her hair and rinsing out the suds, she grabbed her brush and began to comb conditioner through the matted areas in her hair. Pulling hard with frustration, scalp stinging, her heart rate began to pick up. " _If I don't finish this soon I'll be late"_ she thought anxiety consuming her.

She began to work out the times in her head " _If I'm not out of here by 7:15, I won't be ready to leave by 7:45 and if I leave later than 7:45, I won't be to school before 8:05 when classes begin_ ". Her temples began to pound. Breathing erratically, she noticed her heart was beating far too hard in her chest. The once pleasant heat of the shower suddenly felt oppressive and exhausting. She swayed on her feet, light-headed, strange, and gripped in a stupor of pure confusion. Then, in an instant, she couldn't hear. She couldn't hear anything. Panicked, she shut off the shower and nearly fell to the floor stepping out of it. Spots appeared in her vision obscuring a clear path to the door. Dripping globs of water onto the tiles, she kneeled on the ground.

Placing her head between her legs, she focused on her breathing. Slow, deep, steady breaths. Slowly, her hearing returned to normal, heart slowed to its normal, steady pace. She opened her eyes and looked around. She could see. But not in the same manner she used to. She saw all at once, herself as a child standing on a stool and brushing her teeth, the floating air and ground below it that the second story bathroom had once been, and her mother opening the door to check on her. She saw herself stand and leave the room, emerging from the place she still sat. Catatonic and bewildered, she sat and observed, all at once, the history of that room. She saw it built around her, everything that happened within it, and everything that would or rather could happen.

Hundreds of years flashed before her eyes, overwhelming her mind and paralyzing her body. Suddenly, the door swung open. Her mother, looking concerned asked her if she was alright. She didn't respond. She just stood on unsteady feet and walked forwards towards her room, on a floor that to her both was and wasn't there.


	2. Chapter 1: Catatonic Cassie

It was a lovely Monday morning at the Xavier Estate. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the mighty Wolverine was pouting like an overgrown child in the middle of Charles’ office.

“Look Chuck, I get it, you need to go see this kid and assess her powers. I just don’t get why I’ve gotta tag along” Logan groaned exasperated. The last thing he wanted was to be pulled halfway across the country to deal with a hormonal teenager. Let alone one coming into their own as a mutant. It was a difficult change and he really felt for the kid, for all the kids that had to go through it, but he wasn’t really much help in those kinds of situations. He wasn’t exactly nurturing.

“The reason Logan that you have to ‘tag along’ is because I haven’t been able to get any idea of the nature of her powers.” Charles replied, steepling his fingers and grimacing in concern. “Her mind is disoriented and her thoughts disjointed. I’m usually able to decipher the confusion caused by the emergence of mutant abilities and retrieve the necessary information but this is different.” When Charles had peered into the young girls head earlier that morning, he had nearly lost himself in the battering waves of information and emotion crashing down upon the girl. Her powers had only emerged that morning and shouldn’t had affected her psyche that severely or quickly. “Whatever the girls abilities, she must be brought to the academy to learn to control her power. And even if I cannot see what her mutation is yet, I can tell you one thing Logan. She is strong.”

“ How strong?” Logan inquired, finally beginning to understand what his role would be on this mission.

“Strong enough to be a danger. To both herself and others.” he replied levelly.

Logan huffed. “So I’m to be the punching bag should the little girl throw a tantrum” he snarked as the Professer moved his wheelchair towards the office door.

“Now now, Logan.” The Professor scolded gently before his face split into a warm hearted smirk. “Don’t be so melodramatic.” He paused for a second in thought “Anyways you’re more of a human shield than a punching bag.” 

* * *

 

Cassandra sat on the living room couch. She didn’t blink. She didn’t speak.   
She didn’t move.  
Her eyes were unfocused and dark. Pupils consuming the warm green-brown of her iris.

Her mother was near hysterical. Quickly realizing there was something wrong with her usually talkative daughter. She had emailed her school that she was sick, helped her to dress, and was now frantically trying to take her temperature. At her daughters lack of response to her plying requests to open up, she simply stuck the thermometer into her slightly parted mouth.

Cassandra didn’t even flinch.

Then, she heard a knock at her door and hesitating to leave her daughters side, Lydia Lewis rose and answered the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Lewis. I’m Professor Charles Xavier and this is my associate Logan Howlett. We’d like to speak to your daughter, Cassandra”

* * *

 

Leading the two men, who had seemed strangely knowledgable what was wrong with her daughter, into the living room, Lydia began to doubt her decision. Her daughter hadn’t spoken, moved, or attempted to assert her will on the world in any way for hours. Lydia was ready to take her to the hospital when these two strangers knocked on her door and spoken of an ‘affliction’ facing her daughter. She had nearly shoved them through the door in her haste to have them help her daughter. As grateful as she was that someone knew what was going on with her daughter, this was weird.

They entered the spacious forest green living room and Mrs. Lewis began to explain the mornings occurrences. Finding her daughter siting, with wide eyes and a blank stare, on the bathroom floor. Her attempts to coax a proper response out of the girl before realizing there was something wrong, bringing her downstairs, and checking her temperature.

All while the three of them observed the catatonic teenager currently siting on the dark brown sofa. Thermometer still hanging out of her mouth. 

Cassandra's mental state and the story her mother told him shocked Charles. He'd seen many children wracked with turmoil over the emergence of their mutant abilities, his own awakening had been painful and unsettling, but he had never seen someone so completely consumed by them. He slowly approached her, reaching out with his mind.

" _Hello Cassandra, my name is Charles Xavier_ " He projected the words into her head trying to bring them to the center of her thoughts. 

She didn't respond verbally, however she swung her head around quickly to stare at him. Darkened eyes lightening and focusing on him briefly before once again becoming hazy. Logan forced himself to relax, he had nearly let out his claws when the girl turned to look at the Professor and the last thing the kid needed right now was more stress. The poor thing was obviously going through something and seeing his claws would only make it worse.

Attempting once more to understand the nature of her problem, Charles began to rifle through her mind, to find her memories of this morning. Finding them at last he watched them carefully, taking in Cassandra's powers. Her visions of the past and future. Realizing at once that the child, unused to such much information simultaneously , couldn't focus her mind with millennia of stimuli ripping past her constantly. He brought her consciousness away from her ability, focusing her eyes and mind on the current moment.

Broken out of her reverie, she looked up at him curiously "Who are you?" she whispered gently. 

Charles smiled "My name is Charles Xavier, I run a school for people with special abilities." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long and unwieldy break between posting chapters. I'm graduating from high school later this week and final exams have been kicking my ass. I'm going to try to update more frequently once school ends. Thanks for reading!


	3. The Mistimed Motions of a Displaced Cassandra

As the car,bumping along the road, rattled its way up the long winding driveway to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, Cassandra closed her eyes. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since her ‘abilities’ had revealed themselves and Cassandra was already in a different state, in a car with two complete strangers, along with a trunk full of her most prized possessions. She hadn’t said much to the two men who had absconded with her.

After the Professor had helped her to see past her abilities, he had begun to explain to her mother the powers she possessed (qualifying with ‘as best as I can understand’) and explaining that ‘they may continue to manifest themselves in other ways or evolve further’. Ultimately convincing the older woman that her daughter needed to be brought to a place where, firstly, she could learn how to control her abilities under his personal supervision, and secondly, where she would be accepted as a mutant amongst her own kind.

All this being said while Cassandra’s head was still reeling. She felt a pucker of anger against Xavier. For taking her from a normal life. From her mother and friends and everything she'd ever known. But then again, despite the loss of choice in this matter, he had returned her to her senses. If only for now. As he had explained that she must be taught to use her abilities, to control them without causing harm to herself or others, and for that he would have to release his grip on her mind.

The other man had been quiet through the whole ordeal, other than to grunt his assent when addressed by Charles. Whilst staring at her with an expression that oscillated between seemingly judging whether or not she was a bomb about to go off and exasperating looks of poorly hidden pity. All couched in the awkward demeanour of someone whose only wish was to be elsewhere. As if the forest green living room was the greatest horror he’d ever encountered.

Now, as the same man parked the car and got out, helping the Professor into his wheelchair, she took the time to appraise him fully . He was tall, well-muscled with sharp features. His lips turned down in what seemed an eternal snarl. He was altogether handsome, she thought, in a savage type of way. There was something animalistic in the way he moved that was nearly frightening. However, his eyes held more. They were a beautiful dark brown, not unlike her own and betrayed a certain restrained kindness. A tired, experienced attempt at hope.

Suddenly, those eyes met hers through the car window. She blushed and glanced down and away. Opening the door on the opposite side from him, and dragging the heavy suitcase she had with her across the ground as she attempted to lift it. She stared at the lush and stately courtyard. Perfectly manicured. It was such a foreign yet beautiful place, even on that grey, misty day.

A hand closed over her own on the suitcase. Looking up surprised, her eyes locked with Logan’s as he lifted it from her grasp. As she retracted her hand from his, brushing against his knuckles. She let out a startled gasp, and fell to the ground. The totality of her eyes turning bright green as she arched her back up against some unseen force.

As Logan’s memories, even the ones he could not remember for himself, washed over her.


End file.
